


where we can both fall far in love

by kiroiimye



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Confession, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiroiimye/pseuds/kiroiimye
Summary: Which is why Yuri can confidently say that none of those negative previous experiences can amount to the flurry of frustration, sadness, misery, and disappointment that's whirling around in his gut, as he stares down at the unsent text message.To Beka: you wanna go on a dinner date or smth?In which Yuri's longtime crush gets a little out of hand and his iPhone's Siri does something about it. [ft. encouraging parents, text flirting, and speech-to-text Siri having a mind of its own.]
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 155





	where we can both fall far in love

At nineteen years old, Yuri Plisetsky thinks he's felt all the negative emotions known to mankind. 

He's felt frustration: the Grand Prix final he attended at seventeen resulted in a second place finish, around 0.35 points shy of first place, which was won by the damn pork-cutlet bowl. He's felt sadness: when he was eight, his cat passed away from a tragic car accident. He's felt misery: the utter sickness in his throat and stomach when he hears he has to miss a Junior Grand Prix competition because of a twisted ankle at thirteen years old. He's felt disappointment: when his grandfather couldn't make it to a home competition when he was fifteen because he was stuck in the hospital. 

Needless to say, nineteen years of living has brought Yuri Plisetsky a myriad of emotions and whirlwinds of feelings. Though one could say nineteen was far too young to say he's experienced everything in the world, Yuri could arguably answer that he's done more things, seen more things, than most people will ever do.

Which is why Yuri can confidently say that none of those negative previous experiences can amount to the flurry of frustration, sadness, misery, and disappointment that's whirling around in his gut, as he stares down at the unsent text message.

_To Beka: you wanna go on a dinner date or smth?_

_ > send < _

_ > delete <_

"You gonna send that?" Mila peers over Yuri's shoulder, eyes scanning the message before Yuri can shove his phone into his pocket. He scowls at her, twisting around on the ice to glare at Mila, while shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Fuck off," Yuri says sharply. "None of your business, hag."

Mila rolls her eyes at the nickname, her lips pressed in an amused smile. After more than five years of practicing on the same ice as Yuri, she's more than accustomed to his insults and mannerisms. Perhaps Yuri needs to find more nicknames to call her--maybe then, he'll get a rise. 

Or then again, maybe not.

"You're not gonna get anywhere if you keep chickening out," Mila continues dryly, leaning against the wall to smirk at him. "Just send the message already."

Yuri feels a flush of heat creep into his cheeks and he folds his arms to scowl at Mila. "I don't know what you're talking about."

It elicits a snort from Mila and she launches herself off the wall to go skate, smirk still in place and as wide as the Cheshire Cat's. 

"Whatever you say, Yuri," she says, sauntering away to a group of girls. “Just send the message. It’s not like Otabek is a stranger.”

Yuri makes a face at her back, and peeks back at his phone. The text message blinks tauntingly back at him and the blue ‘send’ stares him down. 

_Well? Aren’t you gonna press the button?_

Yuri hesitates, finger lingering over the tempting blue button, before Yakov’s sharp voice breaks his reverie.

“Oi! Yuri, what’re you doing?!”

With a scowl, Yuri deletes the message and shoves his phone into his pocket. He’ll try again later.

—

Yuri’s not sure when dinners with Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov became a regular thing. At some point, he knows the little piggy and his trashy mentor invited him out to celebrate one of his gold medal wins, and suddenly, Yuri was spending time at Yuuri and Victor’s shared flat, texting the pig about any new restaurants that have opened up, and calling Victor a series of names via text message. 

Anyhow, he ends up at Yuuri and Victor’s on a Friday evening, lounging on their couch while Yuuri cooks and Victor lingers around the kitchen, trying to help his fiancée. 

Yuuri and Victor have been dating for over three years, and only recently have they reached the engagement stage in their relationship (and about time too; Yuri had gotten quite sick of the pair’s drunken whining of ‘when will Yuuri/Victor propose already?!’ Honestly, they were both hopeless). 

He’s told Otabek as much, complained relentlessly about his mentors’ uselessness. 

(“Seriously!” he rages over the phone. “They better propose soon or I’ll do it for them!”

Otabek hums thoughtfully, and Yuri can see him in mind’s eye: lips pursed and eyebrows upturned, a small crease in between his eyes. The idea that Yuri can so easily see Otabek in his thoughts _scares_ him to an extent that shouldn’t be real, but he shoves the fluttering of his heart away, in favor of the real issue.

“You know,” Otabek begins, “perhaps all they need is a little push to get them going. Maybe you could point them in the right direction, Yuri?”

Yuri huffs, but mulls Otabek’s words, before he says, “Maybe. I’ll consider helping them out. Thanks for listening, Beka.”

“Of course. I’m always here for you.”)

Yuri hadn’t thought too much of those words back then; his focus had solely been on helping his idiotic mentors on proposing to each other, but a successful surprise proposal on Yuuri’s part, Otabek’s words had plagued Yuri night and day, whispering in his daydreams and caressing him before bed every night. 

Ridiculous. And yet, not. 

He squints at the latest notification on his phone: a text message from Otabek, with an attached image of a leopard printed jacket.

_Beka: This reminded me of you._

Yuri grins instinctively, and immediately responds back.

_Yuri: buy it for me and I’ll pay you back the next time I see you_

A ping comes from his phone before he even changes the app and he praises Otabek’s quick responses. There’s another attached image, this time of a receipt and a plastic bag.

_Beka: Way ahead of you :)_

Smiley emoticons from Otabek are rare and Yuri allows his grin to widen at the sight. There’s a heat in his cheeks he chooses to ignore, in favor of typing out a response.

Just then, silver hair hangs over his shoulder and Yuri closes his phone before Victor has a chance to read. 

“Aw, Yurio, keeping secrets?” Victor pouts and Yuri rolls his eyes.

“Stay out of my business, asshole,” he spits. 

Victor arches an eyebrow, just as Yuuri calls, “Dinner’s ready!”

Yuri sighs in relief and saunters away from the couch before Victor can stop him. He hears the older man’s footsteps plod over as he takes a seat and Yuuri places three steaming bowls of katsudon before them. 

“Eat up!” he chirps and they begin to dig in. Yuuri and Victor begin to discuss wedding planning and Yuri tunes it out, letting his thoughts drift about idly.

What was Otabek eating? Is his food as great as the katsudon before him? Has Otabek even tried katsudon? Yuri resolves to make Otabek try katsudon the next time he comes to Japan—Otabek has great taste, he’d surely enjoy eating it—

“So, Yurio’s keeping secrets!” Victor exclaims suddenly and Yuri snaps up to glare at Victor. Honestly, did he have a sense of privacy?!

“Shut up, idiot!” Yuri snaps, and to his surprise, Yuuri nods along.

“Victor, you shouldn’t expose Yuri like that—”

“But it’s about Otabek and I wanna know why!”

Now Yuuri looks at him curiously, head tilted and Yuri really hates the entire world.

“Are you two together?” Yuuri asks and Yuri feels his face flame red.

“Of course not!” he sputters. “Just friends!”

Victor snorts. “But you were blushing and smiling at your phone! And his contact name is ‘Beka!’ Are you sure about that, Yurio?”

“Very!”

“If you have feelings for him, you should tell him,” Yuuri says earnestly, and Yuri smacks his forehead into the table.

“I hate it here,” he grumbles and the couple laugh at him, though not unkindly.

“You’ll be back next week,” Yuuri assures and Yuri hates to hear that he’s right.

—

Yuri sighs as he flops onto his bed. It’s hot, especially for early spring and though he’s set the aircon at full blast, he still feels the drip of sweat on his back.

He’s too lazy to do anything else really—the heat slaps his energy to zero, and Yuri actually just wants to melt into his sheets. 

He pulls out his phone, skimming his unread texts for a specific name, until he finds the one he’s looking for. Otabek’s name sits at the top, shortened to four letters and with endless lists of conversation between them.

The most recent reads: _Good night, I hope you dream well, Yuri._

Though it’s simply a normal ‘good night’ text, he feels his heart flutter at text and he grimaces at the feelings, tossing his phone onto his pillow. 

“Really, it’s not like I can just say, ‘Beka, I’m in love with you and I want you to go on a date with me,’” he gripes out loud. “That’s fucking ridiculous and way too casual. I’ve gotta do something other than just shoot a text.”

But how could he, when they lived so far away? Yuri’s in Japan, training under Victor (shockingly), and Otabek is in Europe traveling on the off-season. 

“Message sent,” an automated voice says and Yuri’s blood turns to ice.

_Shit._

He grasps at his phone and stares in dismay at the written voice-to-text message that was sent to Otabek: a perfect typing of the complaints he blurted out less than a minute ago.

Fuckfuck _fuck._ Was this how his feelings were going to be revealed?! On accident, of all things?! This is even worse than purposely texting Otabek—fuck. The typing icon comes up and Yuri throws his phone away with a scream.

Fuck his life, what the hell?!

The damned device beeps again and Yuri curses, reaching for it, despite the roll in his gut. He sends a prayer to any god above, before he opens the message. 

_Beka: Glad to hear the feeling’s mutual, even if I preferred to go on a date first, before confessing my love._

What. Yuri gaps at the message, before a full blush erupts over his cheeks and he scrambles to message back.

_Yuri: shit I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to confess like this. is that a yes for a date though?_

_Beka: It’s a yes. I’m buying a plane ticket to Japan right now._

Yuri screams and buries his face into his pillow. Okay, maybe life isn’t so shit awful after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this 100% on a whim like a month ago, after rewatching yoi for the first time in like years LOL
> 
> \--
> 
> [edge of glory](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQkklRt_CUY)
> 
> \--
> 
> holler at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kiroiimye) & [Tumblr](https://kiroiimye.tumblr.com/) :D


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